Ducifer Ficlets
by Ink Stained Mind
Summary: Just a series of Ducifer drabbles, I'll post more when I'm writing them. (The genre listed is romance, but they'll range from angst to whatever I manage to come up with.)
1. Angst Ahoy

He burns. It's love and fierce and he's drowning in fire, maybe he understands his father more. He loves but can still only think of how, as he runs his fingers over his human, his **_love's_** naked body, easy it would be to break fragile bone, to tear apart skin and watch blood flow.

And this treasure he grabbed from Michael's greedy, grasping hands _trusts_ him. The Righteous Man himself loves him, gives everything and expects nothing in return.

It is terrifying.


	2. In Which Luci is a dick

Dean would never actually admit it, but he craved physical contact. It was surprising but actually satisfying then that his-fuck buddy? boyfriend? decided he needed to be glued to Dean all the time. It was so nice that Dean Winchester, self-professed "manly man" didn't give a fuck about stares if Luce was always so eager to kiss him or wrap an arm around his waist. Sure, anyone that tried to flirt with Dean would practically run away, but that was only an awesome ego boost. Dean didn't seriously realize how possessive the idiot was until Sam and Cas dropped by unannounced.

Unannounced was the morning after a night of filthy, _awesome_ sex. The embarrassment of getting caught wearing nothing but a collar, _sitting on his boyfriend's lap_, by his little brother and Cas was fucking horrifying. It got worse when Lucifer-the terrible, sexy bastard, pulled Dean in for a rough kiss that always jerked a porn star level moan out of him.

Here, in front of his little brother and best friend, covered in hickies, moaning, and quivering into the bastard's touch, Dean realized he basically had "Belongs to Lucifer" inked into every inch of his skin.


	3. Dean's Dirty Prayers

As tailor made for seduction as Dean Winchester seemed, Lucifer was confident he could ignore him. That was quickly abandoned when the Winchester realized he could hear prayers. Even worse, Dean was _creative._Dean Winchester sent him _pleas. _Please Luce, fuck me against the wall until I scream your name with my pretty green eyes open wide. _Please_, tie me up, handcuff me to a bed and_ ride_ me. Please, bite me until everyone knows I'm only yours. Please, put a collar around my neck, force me onto my knees and come in my mouth. Please do all this and _**more.**_

…and really, why would he ever _**want**_ to deny such desperate prayers?


	4. Demon Dean

Crowley isn't exactly nervous per se, but when you first meet Hell's newest general and Lucifer's rumored fuck buddy a good impression is essential. Hell's usually thriving rumor mill was also annoyingly dead about the boss's current favorite, so this complicated matters (but Crowley was a businessman, he knew he could accomplish it.) So when he opened the heavily warded door, it came as a shock to him that he had to restrain himself from blinking. There, surrounded by blood covered implements, was what appeared to be the missing Winchester, singing like he stepped out of that Sondheim musical. It's when the demon turns and his eyes flash white that Crowley is certain that it's definitely Dean Winchester…and that he's carving up a screaming and sobbing angel.

Hell's newest official looks at him for a moment, before flashing a feral, bloodstained smile. Without missing a beat, Dean greets him by way of a cheerful "Heya, Crowley" and returns to his work. The angel is strapped across the table, back up, but even with a carved up face Crowley reckons he knows who it is. He's proven right when Dean hacks off the last remaining stump of the angel's wings and rips his skin apart.

"Really, Zachy? That's enough to hurt **the big bad angel?" **the Winchester comments gleefully, grabbing the angel's ribs and snapping them outwards. Dean looks up at him again and smiles in satisfaction, face now covered in slivers of bone. "When I started hunting these bastards, I learned something. If you try to make them insane, they get happy and oblivious. Introduce them to pain and they're beautiful screaming wrecks." Voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone, the Winchester adds "A few of them pissed themselves." That was more like the Dean Winchester he knew, incredibly crude.

"Anyways," the Winchester starts, eyes flashing white, "why are you down here? I don't see a welcome basket." Crowley knows in this rare case he may need to tell the truth.

"Oh, just assessing the newest arrival."

The Winchester just stares before turning back to his work and opening the door with a flick of his hand.

"By the way Crowley this dumb ass was an anniversary present from your boss."

Judging by his smirk, Crowley knows his new boss is enjoying shoving him out the door.


End file.
